by Gayle Katz
“I don’t know how you do that,” said Zan.
“You have to press certain tumblers down, hold them down with the wire, then jab the last one at the end. It all clicks together and unlocks.”
“Say what?”
“OK, just stick to the science and leave me with the tech,” said Charlie. She held open the door.
“Nice,” commented Zan, heading inside.
“Down here,” whispered Charlie, leading her to the staircase.
“Oh right. I forgot you’ve been here before,” said Zan.
“Right, when I first officially met your boyfriend,” said Charlie. “Apparently, he likes it rough.”
Zan was about to yell at her, but Charlie reached out and put her hand over Zan’s lips. As she did so, she silently laughed. Zan frowned at her but remained quiet.
Down in the basement, it was relatively peaceful. The girls walked the line of cages on each side.
“Hey, there’s no one here,” said Charlie.
“Damn! They’ve moved him already,” said Zan.
“OK, let’s get out of here before we’re spotted,” said Charlie.
Zan followed her out of the basement and back up the stairs.
“What’s plan B?” asked Charlie.
“Oh, I have an idea,” said Zan. They exited through the back door. They grabbed something from the car, and then went back to the station.
This time they entered through the front door. Zan walked up to the front desk.
“How may I help you?” the man at reception asked.
“I’m here to see Ray Orzola. I have some snacks for him. I heard he’s been in here a while. He’s a family friend.”
The man at the counter typed something into the computer. “Sorry, he’s no longer here.”
“Oh dear. Is he on the way to state?” she asked.
He shook his head. “No. He got sick or something and is now at the hospital. Looks like he’ll be appreciating your gift.”
Zan didn’t even say thank you as she raced out the door. “I’ve got it from here,” said Zan. “You don’t need to come with me.”
“OK, if you’re certain. Owen said he had some more issues with ghost zombies or something,” replied Charlie.
“Ghost zombies? Yeah. I remember him mentioning something about that. Good luck,” said Zan, chuckling.
Chapter 7
________________________________________
“Finally,” said Owen, opening the door for Charlie. “I’ve been so freaked out! I’m having trouble sleeping. I saw a zombie in my room, in the living room, and in the kitchen. It threw a knife at me. It was real, but the zombie wasn’t.”
Charlie grabbed his arm and directed him to a chair in the living room. “Calm down. We’ll get this sorted out.” They both took a seat.
“Where are your parents?” she asked.
He shrugged. “They’re always at work or eating out.”
“That’s weird,” said Charlie. “My Gran is almost always at home.”
“That’s good,” said Owen. “It would be nice to see my parents a bit more often.”
“OK, so let’s get down to business. You say you see zombies, but they’re not real?”
He nodded. “I tried to use my dagger on them, but when I do, they vanish into thin air.”
She frowned. “I haven’t heard anything like that before. And you said a knife was thrown at you?”
“Yeah, the zombie threw a knife at me. It was a real knife. Here, let me show you the damage it did to the wall.” He got up and she followed after him.
In the kitchen, he showed her the mark on the wall.
“Wow,” she said. “That is definitely real.”
“I know! So, if zombies are real, I suppose ghosts are real. But how did a ghost just pick up a knife and toss it at me? I could understand if it tossed a ghost knife that wouldn’t harm me, but a real knife can.”
“Do you still have the knife?” asked Charlie.
Owen walked over to the counter. “Yep. The zombie took it right out of here.” He pointed to the wooden knife block. “I think it was this one. Yeah, the big one.” He pulled the knife out. He held it out to her.
“Um, can you put it in a bag for me? We can bring it to Stewart and he can tell us if anything is up with it.”
“Good idea.” He grabbed a large bag from under the cupboard and dropped it in. She took it from him and went back to the living room to drop it on the couch. Then she came back and snapped a photo of the damage on the wall.
“Now that’s done, I need to fix the hole.” He grabbed a can of spackle and opened the container. He used his fingers and scooped some out to fill up the hole. “There. That should do it.” He gently smoothed it over.
“I can barely see it,” she said. “Good job.”
He stepped back and looked proudly at it. “Yeah, good thing it’s the same color as the wall.”
He cleaned up and rejoined her in the living room.
“So, our next plan of attack is to simply wait for another zombie to appear,” said Charlie. She picked up the plastic baggie and examined the knife.
“Cool,” he said. “I have my dagger ready.”
“Does the dagger really get rid of them?”
He nodded. “Strangely, yes.”
“But the house should have protections surrounding it. Stewart said he dropped by and checked.”
“I know. It’s weird.”
Charlie got up. “OK, ghost zombies. Come out, come out from wherever you are.”
Owen laughed, already feeling better. Then he looked out the window. “Hey! There’s someone out there.” He got up and rushed over to the window.
“What? Where?” Charlie joined him. “Hey. I see a guy running away.”
“Oh crap. I’ll bet that’s the burglar.”
“Right, I almost forgot. Your place got broken into,” said Charlie.
“Yeah, I wonder if someone is still casing my place.” Owen joined her on the couch.
“So, I’m thinking, you’ve got two separate problems here, unless that guy outside was a zombie. I didn’t get a good look at him, did you?”
He nodded. “I did. It was a young guy. He wasn’t a zombie.”
“Hm. Well, it’s possible he is responsible for what is happening here, but also possible he isn’t either.”
“Well, I’m more concerned about the zombies at this point than some guy breaking in to grab an old TV and laptop. Besides, my dad installed an alarm system now.”
“OK. I’m going to take a look around.” She wandered around the house, checking out the formal dining room that no one used, and the two bathrooms, and bedrooms.
“How would zombie ghosts get into the house? Obviously, someone has been sending them here. Hmmm.”
She opened and closed closets.
“So what have we learned?” she muttered. “OK. So zombie ghosts aren’t following the rules and the protections don’t work on them. Zombie ghosts can do no harm, but that’s not true,” she said to herself.
“See anything?” Owen called up to her from the stairs. “Do you want a snack? I’m getting one.”
“No, that’s OK. Gran is making this huge feast for us tonight. Got to watch my weight.” She walked down the stairs.
“Well, one thing I do know for certain,” she explained as he listened attentively. “Ghosts can get in the house because they are harmless and can’t hurt us.”
“But one tried to hurt me,” he said, getting annoyed.
“Hey. I said I only figured one thing out.” She laughed.
“I’ve been thinking, what if they aren’t zombie ghosts?”
“Oh, you mean they’re fake? Like a projection?” she asked.
He gasped. “Yes! Fake! Then of course they could be projected to anywhere that the related spell could send them.”
She smiled in understanding. “Cool. I knew there was no such thing as zombie ghosts!”
“I know, right!”
&nbs
p; “OK. So there must be a simple spell that sends projections into someone’s home.”
He nodded. “I’m certain there is, and I’m not just saying that because I’m a truthsayer.”
“OK, good to know. So how did one of the zombie projections throw the dagger then?” she asked.
“That one still has me stumped,” he admitted.
zzz
Zan clicked her key fob to lock her car and set the alarm. She decided to take an open approach and headed to the front entrance of the hospital where it said Admissions. She headed straight to the reception desk.
“Hi. I’m Ray Orzola’s daughter. Can you direct me to his room, please?”
“Let’s see. We’re keeping him in Room #412, up on the top floor. He does have a police officer watching over him.”
“Thanks.” Zan headed to the elevator and took it up to the top floor. She patted her bag. The syringes were ready to go. She planned on spending the least amount of time in the hospital.
Finally, the slow elevator brought her up to the top floor. She remembered some of this place from last fall, when there had been a zombie outbreak at the hospital. But it looked like everything was back to normal. Or, maybe not, depending on how the zombie vaccine worked. For all she knew, it would turn him into a zombie.
She’d already learned that the vaccine hadn’t worked on Mr. Warcola’s wife, who had been turned into a zombie for some reason. But most likely he hadn’t administered it to her in time either. The other scenario was that the vaccine would work but only lessen the disease.
Zan smiled as she thought about how she had two syringes. One was to infect him with the zombie plague, the second one was to see if the zombie vaccine really worked.
zzz
“Hi, Sergeant Bourne,” said Charlie on her cell phone, placing emphasis on the sergeant title. “Um, yes. We were. Why?” Charlie looked frantically at Owen, who was trying to figure out why she was anxious. “Um, yes, we might have been at the police station.” She paused.
“We asked about Ray Orzola,” she added. “Because, we want answers, Jay, I mean, Sergeant Bourne.”
Owen heard more frantic words coming from the phone.
“Well, last time I checked, it wasn’t illegal to visit the police station and check with reception. I see.” She hung up.
“What’s up?” asked Owen.
“Remember when I said I had to meet Zan?”
He nodded.
“Well, she wanted me to break into the police station,” she said nonchalantly.
“What? Does Stewart know about this?”
She shook her head.
“Why did she want to meet with that Ray guy?”
She shrugged. “She just said that he had more information than he was telling.”
“Obviously. But most people who have that information have ended up dead. So, did you get to speak to him?”
“No, he had been taken to the hospital or something.”
Owen thought for a bit. “So, Zan has gone to the hospital now?”
Charlie looked confused. “Why would she do that? If he’s sick, he’ll get better, then he’ll be back in jail.”
Owen sighed in exasperation. “Because, remember, Ray was responsible for the death of her mother.”
Charlie looked shocked. “Oh right, I didn’t think about that. But, you don’t think?” she said, looking worried.
“Yeah, I do.”
They both looked at each other, extremely troubled by the turn of events.
zzz
Stewart was having a great afternoon. The zombie sightings were minimal, and the teens were behaving themselves. With luck, he could enjoy the rest of summer before it was back to teaching in September.
He grabbed a couple of cold beers and sat in the living room. He flicked through the channels, trying to find something good to watch. He felt better that Jay had broken up with Jane. He felt certain that Jay had been doing some undercover work, or under the covers, at least. He had a good chuckle to himself. But he was relieved that he could always trust Jay as a good but sneaky cop.
In the beginning, when his team had first met the cop, they’d thought he had been up to no good. That also seemed to be the case with Mayor Jane Cote. But so far, she had been on their side. She had fought off zombies too. But she also had some shady financial practices. Of course, that part was none of his business.
He settled in for a long day of TV watching.
zzz
Zan quickly found his room. The door was open and the cop was nowhere in sight. When she peered in, she saw that he shared a room with three other people. No problem. She could figure this out.
She grabbed a white lab coat and stethoscope from her bag and put them on. She then entered the room.
“Hello. You must be Ray Orzola,” she said, examining his chart.
Ray was lying on the bed, semi-conscious. He looked briefly at her but was too tired to even lift his head.
Zan pulled the curtains around his bed so the other three patients couldn’t see them. They all seemed sleepy from whatever medication they’d been given.
“Hi, Ray. Do you remember me?” whispered Zan. “I’m the daughter of the woman you indirectly killed. Remember Wanda Goldberg? She was in your zombie gang. She was recruited by Dr. Arora, who promised her that she’d be rich and famous. Or at least, richer and famous.”
Ray peered at her and frowned. “Didn’t mean to get her killed,” he mumbled. “It was only the grunts we turned into zombies to work for us.”
“Right, because that’s OK? It’s not.” Zan patted the pocket where she’d dropped the syringes.
“Doesn’t matter now. I’m dying,” he said.
“Oh, yes. You will be,” she commented, with an angry expression on her face. “People like you should not be allowed to live.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out the first syringe.
“No point,” Ray whispered to her. “I’m already infected with the zombie plague,” he said.
“Are you serious?” said Zan, frowning. “Who did that to you?”
Ray shrugged. “It was one of the cops from the police station.”
Chapter 8
________________________________________
“We have to find Zan,” said Charlie, pulling out her phone. She sent her a text. “No response!”
“Keep trying,” said Owen. “Maybe we should go to the hospital. She would be where Ray is.”
“Crap!” said Charlie, tossing her phone back in her bag. “We’ll have to tell Stewart, but let’s get to the hospital first.”
“Good plan. Let me get my keys.” Owen raced up the stairs to his room. As he was getting ready, he heard a loud thump come from downstairs.
“Hey, Charlie. Everything OK down there?”
“Um, Owen. You need to come down here,” she called back at him.
Owen took the stairs two at a time. When he reached the living room, he saw three zombies behind a very worried looking Charlie.
“Hey, Charlie! Use your dagger!” called out Owen, racing around trying to find his own.
“Um, but I can’t see them! I only knew there was someone here because they knocked some things off the coffee and end tables!”
“Whoa, that’s crazy! I’m the only one who can see the zombies standing right behind you?”
She turned and looked behind her. “I don’t see anything.” She waved her arm in front of her. Owen watched as her arm went right through the zombie ghosts without any effect on them.
“Use your dagger and aim for their general location!” he cried out.
Charlie pulled her dagger out of her holster and used it to jab the air. “Take that and that and that,” she said, plunging the dagger into thin air.
“Cool! You got one,” said Owen, finally finding his backpack where his dagger was.
“Wow, I’ve been in some crazy fighting situations, but this is insane,” she said, jabbing the air around her.
“I can help. I’ll get
one,” he said, stabbing the air with his dagger. One of the zombies he saw quickly vanished. “They sure don’t like these daggers.”
“Right, ha-ha,” said Charlie. “Where’s the other one?” She backed up.
Owen glanced around. “It’s near the TV.” He headed in that direction. As he was walking, the zombie had managed to pick up the remote control. It went flying in his direction.
“Careful!” called out Charlie. “That one can grab objects!”
“I know, crazy,” he said. He was about to plunge the dagger into its ethereal body, when he paused. “Say, this looks like Dr. Arora.”
“Say what,” said Charlie, wishing she could see the ghost zombies. “That’s crazy. She’s dead.”
“I know, but if these are projections, they could be made from the original zombie gang.” He took the dagger and plunged it into Dr. Arora’s ghostly form. She quickly vanished.
“Done?” she asked, putting her dagger away.
“Yeah,” he responded. “But that was some crazy shit. Oh, so you believe me now?” he asked. “That I’m being plagued by zombie ghosts?”
“Always,” she said, patting him on the arm. “It’s just that there is too much to do sometimes.”
“I wonder what Stewart is doing right now?” Owen asked, putting his dagger back into his bag.
Charlie headed to the front door. “Oh, probably passed out in front of the TV on his couch,” she said, laughing.
zzz
“Who is it?” Stewart called from his couch.
“The police,” the guy said.
“Um, that’s not you, Jay, is it?” He got up off his couch and walked to the door. A quick look through his peephole told him that it wasn’t Jay but some other unknown police officer.
“What do you want?” he called out.